The Not So Great Death Scenes As Told By Me
by Semdai Bloodquill
Summary: Basically I retell death scenes with better detail. It's gruesome but entertaining. feel free to flame as long as you review. Chap 2 has been revised with even gorier detail and a new ending. So yeah...
1. Kellindil

The Not-So-Great Death Scenes As Told By Me By Semdai Chapter One : Kellindil  
  
Disclaimer and author's note - I'm kinda new to the works of R. A. Salvatore, (who works I can only dream of owning, there I said it) but of the books I have read I've noticed that the major death scenes are somewhat less than satisfactory (at least to me and some of my friends). Therefor, I have taken it upon myself to retell the death scenes of those characters that I felt were cheated out of a proper death, while not changing anything (major) about the actual scene. For those with easily pulled heartstrings, proceed with extreme caution and for all readers feel free to flame me for my evilness, since I know that I deserve it. Each of my chapters will begin with one of the following paragraphs that briefly describe the character in question. So those already familiar with the character or simply don't care and want to get on to the gory details can skip these informing paragraphs if they wish.  
  
Kellindil - Kellindil is a surface elf who made his first (and only for as far as I know) appearance in 'Sojourn' the third book in the Dark Elf Trilogy. He is described as having golden hair and a strong, but slender, body. His eyes were described as slanted, although a color was never mentioned as far as I can tell. I have always pictured him as a more scrawny (but still dashing) variation of J. R. R. Tolkien's Legolas. He was killed by a bounty hunter named Roddy McGristle and a quickling(or sprite) named Tephanis. Well enough of this, on with the goryness!  
  
Roddy's huge and dirty hands closed on the slender elf's throat... (this marks where R. A. Salvatore leaves off and where I begin. The sentence is taken directly from the actual book in a pathetic attempt, on my part, to conserve the authenticity of the story.) The fingers gripped Kellindil's neck with an iron grip that no matter how hard he thrashed, would not let him get free. He pried at Roddy's hands in a vain attempt to draw even the smallest of breaths. Kellindil's eyes began to water and a rushing sound rang loud in his ears as his limbs grew heavy. He let one hand drop to the ground and carefully reached into the soft leather of his boot for his concealed dagger.  
  
Roddy didn't notice the elf's trick, thinking that Kellindil might already be dead, until he felt the sharp blade pierce his wrist. The strike, however, was a weak one due to Kellindil's failing strength and did little damage to the seasoned bounty hunter. More out of anger and spite than hurt, Roddy growled a curse and, after roughly raising his victim's upper body, slammed Kellindil's head down against the hard stone of the ground, enjoying the resounding noise as the elf's skull cracked.  
  
Agony exploded in Kellindil's head. He would have cried out from the sheer pain if his throat hadn't been completely crushed by Roddy's cruel hands. The blackness clawing at the edges of his vision and the heat and pressure in his head threatened to overwelm him. Slowly he reached to the back of his head, only to feel the warm blood collecting in his golden hair at the base of his skull.  
  
It then occurred to the elf that Roddy was no longer holding his throat in that vice-like grip of his. Instead, the bounty hunter was crouched over Kellindil, his knee pressing down hard on the elf's chest, driving out any air that might have found its way into the lungs of the dying elf. Kellindil, for all his efforts to breathe, found that his windpipe had been crushed beyond even the greatest cleric's ability to heal. He wanted to bring his hand back into his sight, to see the blood for himself, but he hadn't the strength and the lack of air soon made the warrior-elf close his eyes. He managed a gasp and the warm, salty taste of blood from his crushed gullet filled his mouth. Kellindil let his head fall to the side and the blood trickled from his lips. His lungs made one last great struggle, then Kellindil lay dead at Roddy McGristle's feet.  
  
End Comment - Overall I think this was one of my better death scenes. It certainly pulled my heartstrings(after melting the ice around them). I do have one thing to say about death scenes before I end this chapter. I don't think that very many people realize just how many ways there are to kill someone. Take Kellindil for example, R. A. Salvatore simply wrote 'Roddy's huge and dirty hands closed on the slender elf's throat.' as Kellindil's death scene. It's a good scene because it leaves room for imagination, but the topic is too broad. Merely closing one's fingers around the victim's throat doesn't state exactly what killed the person. Did he break his neck? Did he crush his windpipe? Did he flat out strangle him? The possibilities are endless. Well that's enough of my morbidness for now so I'll wrap this up and go on to my biology homework (while I mentally work on a chapter two for this gruesome product of my deranged teenage mind) until next time, don't smoke crack unless you're willing to share!  
  
Semdai goes to leave the room but trips over her dog and hits her head on a chair, afterwards yelling out, "Damnit Bear, you overly protective dog!" She tries again to leave and gets her tail slammed in the door. "DAMN DOOR!!!" 


	2. Zaknafein Part One revised

The Not So Great Death Scenes As Told By Me By Semdai Bloodquill  
  
Chapter Two : Zaknafein Part One (revised)  
  
Disclaimer/Opening thoughts : Well here I go again with my love of pain and death. This time my victim is Zaknafein Do'Urden, father and mentor of the legendary Drizzt Do'Urden. I originally wanted this to be the first chapter, but the scene was too heart-wrenching and I couldn't bring myself to write it for quite a while because I completely love and adore Zaknafein and wish with all my black little heart that I owned him (which I don't) so that together him and I could make more cute little Drizzts (who doesn't belong to me either). But with a case of writer's block hindering my other works at the moment and the enhanced death scene of beloved Zak still haunting me I have no choice but to pen the scene and stop being such a softy. Damn that took forever to say.  
  
Zaknafein : I have yet to read an R. A. Salvatore book that does not at least mention Zaknafein Do'Urden. Zak(such a sweet nickname) is the father and mentor of Drizzt Do'Urden. Wait a sec! I think I already said that. Oh well, my memory isn't as good as it used to be. No wait, it was always bad, never mind! Zak was the weapon master of House Do'Urden and the greatest rival of Dantrag Baenre(weapon master of House Baenre), he taught both of Drizzt's (half)brothers, Dinin and Nalfein, and pretty much all of the Do'Urden nobles. At one time he was the husband of Matron Malice(Drizzt's mother) but she dismissed him for Rizzen, although she kept him as weapon master and continued to sleep with him until the time of his death. When Drizzt spared the life of an elven child(Ellifain), Zak's son was sentenced to death but was spared when the ever noble Zaknafein gave himself to Lolth in Drizzt's place. The only book Zak actually appears in is 'Homeland' first book of the Dark Elf Trilogy. He also is partially resurrected in the second book 'Exile' as a mindless zombie but since I haven't read it I can't include it... yet.  
  
Here's the real reason you opened this story.  
  
Surreal, like the transition from life to death...  
  
Malice brought the ceremonial dagger down slowly, inching ever closer to Zak's naked chest. The flames of the brazier, leaping in a chaotically beautiful dance, shimmered on the spider blade and threw their light in the old weapon master's tired eyes, but he ignored them as he lay on his back, strapped to the evil alter, praying that Drizzt would continue to survive. Zak closed his dark eyes and rested his head against the stone beneath him. Waiting and bracing his body for the pain that he knew was coming.  
  
Malice placed the spider dagger over Zaknafein's heart, laying it parallel to the weapon master's breast-bone. The metal slowly heated in anticipation, wanting to taste the heart flesh of a blasphemous drow. Briza held out another dagger for her mother to take, which she did. The first knife was fast gaining temperature against Zak's vulnerable chest, burning his flesh mercilessly, demanding that he make some agonized sound.  
  
Zaknafein's instincts wanted him to flail, to cry out, to writhe and twist in hopes of escape from this terrible fate. He pushed them away, knowing that, if he resisted, his sacrifice would be in vain and Drizzt, the only drow he had ever loved in his long life, the son of not only his loins but his heart as well, would die a worse death than the old drow could imagine. Even when Malice plunged her second dagger into the soft flesh of rib cage, Zak refused to scream, refused to give this twisted female the satisfaction of seeing him suffer such pain. Malice carved a half-circle into Zak's chest, taking great care to avoid his heart, before retracting her blade, which she promptly plunged into the opposite side of the first dagger, now glowing red hot, and carving a corrosponding semi-circle.  
  
Those pains, including the second set of complementary semi-circles below the first set, were trivial to the drow male who had lived four and a half centuries without a kindred spirit to comfort him. He hardly felt the wicked sting of the dagger tearing up his lungs as Malice cut lines out from the half circles to symbolize the legs of a spider. He barely registered that he was being robbed of breath, or the ample flow of his own warm blood as it spilled onto the alter, so lost was Zaknafein Do'Urden in his own thoughts. Not even the burning of the first dagger, slowly eating away his sternum with its demonic heat, really pained him. His hope for Drizzt deluded the pain, allowed him to struggle for breath with only minor discomfort.  
  
Malice began to carve the runes of Lolth in Zak's chest, adding to the image of a spider. After the runes were finished, a full drawing of a spider was carved into the male's torso and not once had he even moaned. This angered the Matron Mother enough to make her reach forward and seize Zaknafein's neck in her claw-like hand. She dug her fingers deep into Zak's throat, savoring the furious pounding of his heart against her grip and the small stream of blood that stained her hand as her nails punctured the soft skin of his gullet. Still the stubborn weapon master did not cry out.  
  
" Why do you not scream, Zaknafein," she purred, " you should be honored to be given to the Spider Queen." Zak's head moved up against Malice's grip to lock his dark, blue eyes to her ruby red ones. The agony he felt was evident in his face, but his eyes showed only defiance as he spat in her face.  
  
" Damn the Spider Queen to the lowest levels of the Abyss," Zak growled, restricted somewhat by Malice's grip, " kolsen shea orbb." The last remark, a drow curse that roughly translated to 'pull the legs off a spider' in the common tongue, brought fury to Malice's ruby eyes. The female's eyes flared angrily and she violently clenched the hand holding Zak's throat. This time the male offered a small gasp as her fingers nearly crushed his windpipe. Malice was not satisfied with such a minor expression of pain.  
  
" Lolth wants to hear the cries of a dying, blasphemous drow, Weapon Master," she crooned, " if you will not give them, then perhaps your son will." She glared into Zak's indigo eyes with venom. He knew the Matron Mother would not kill Drizzt unless she had to, the young drow was too valuable to House Do'Urden, but the thoughts of what she might put the son of Zaknafein through were utterly terrifying for the old weapon master. " Scream for us, Zaknafein, and we will spare the traitor," Malice teased, letting go of the weapon master's throat and slapping him across the face. Zak relinquished a slight moan at the strike. Malice struck him again, harder this time. He groaned at the powerful blow. Malice backed off for a moment.  
  
Zaknafein coughed weakly as he fought to regain his breath against the blood rapidly filling his torn lungs. A strong spasm racked his body and forced a gush of warm, salty fluid up his throat and into his mouth. Zak turned his head to one side and let the blood trickle from his mouth to the alter beneath him. When his eyes opened again, the old weapon master gazed through the gathering haze at the face of his daughter.  
  
Vierna stood beside Briza and Maya, her evil sisters, her eyes never leaving her father's face. Something inside her screamed in sorrow for Zaknafein but she smothered it with thoughts of the rewards Lolth would give for this male's death. But as she stared into the eyes of the dying weapon master, Vierna wished the was another way. She scowled at Zak with feined hatred.  
  
Zak saw Vierna's scowl but he knew better. Malice slashed a deep line across Zak's collar-bone, drawing a quick gush of blood, and began chanting anew. The old drow cried out weakly in pain. Blood was flowing off the sides of the alter and pooling at its base. Zak felt his strength leave him along with his lifeblood, spilled for his son, but his hopes for Drizzt's future stayed to comfort him. Malice's chanting reached its crescendo and her bony hand snatched up the burning dagger on Zaknafein's chest. Zak had turned his head back up, though it now felt almost too heavy for him to lift, and watched Malice bring him arm vertically across his chest, slash an opening in the flesh, reach inside him, and sieze his heart in the same grip she had inflicted on his throat.  
  
Malice gave a great tug and tore the weapon master's heart from his body. Zak opened his mouth and screamed with all his strength in response to the new waves of agony in his chest. His cry went on for several moments, making Malice grin with pleasure and Vierna cover her ears in denial. Whatever part of her that was untainted by Lolth's lies was utterly destroyed as her father's dying cry resounded in her ears.  
  
Zaknafein's cry echoed throughout the whole of House Do'Urden and ended in a rush of more blood. His head dropped back to the side, involuntarily this time, as the dying drow's body trembled with unrelenting agony. He shook again, but it was fleeting. The pain would not go away. The burning would not cease. And the old drow weezed in his final breaths.  
  
" I... love... you... Drizzt...," Zaknafein sighed with his final breath, blood tricklng from his lips and pouring from his chest, " good bye... my... son..." His chest heaved as he gave up trying breathe.  
  
Zaknafein's indigo eyes fluttered once, clouded over, and closed. The corpse atop the alter of the Spider Queen went completly limp. Zaknafein Do'Urden knew the peace of restful and eternal slumber, where he would wait, for centuries if he had to, until he would be reunited with the son of his heart and body, where he could rest and be at peace, away from Malice... Away from Menzoberranzan... Away from Lolth...  
  
Ending comment : I'm gonna cry myself to sleep tonight after that. I hope you all didn't think it as sad as I did. I suppose I should be expecting a flaming review or two for this. I really hated writing that scene but like I said earlier I had to get it out. Please feel free to flame me for my blasphemy against Zaknafein. In other words, SOMEBODY FLAME ME PLEASE!!!  
  
And BTW if you want me to write a death scene for a character you thought was under-described, send me an email with the subject 'idea' to GoddessTiamet@hotmail.com and I'll see what I can do. Include the character's name, species, and what book I can find them in. I aim to please(and to be flamed but I shouldn't say that... wait... oops.)  
  
And now some rather pathetic comic relief... Semdai - (rises from her swivel chair, walks over to the wall, and starts bashing her head against it) Why! (bang) Why! (bang) Why! (bang) WHY!!! (bang bang bang) Bruenor - What's all that racket! (enters the room and sees Semdai bashing her brains out on the wall) Oh God, that's inhuman! (Catti-brie and Drizzt enter) Catti-brie/Drizzt - What's inhuman? Bruenor - (looks away in terror) Will someone PLEASE get some armor for that wall! (Drizzt and Catti-brie face fall) Bruenor - (runs away in horror) Make her stop! Semdai - (is too absorbed in punishing herself to notice.) WHY! (bang bang bang)  
  
The End... for now... dot dot dot... 


	3. Dantrag Baenre

The Not So Great Death Scenes As Told By Me  
  
By Semdai  
  
Chapter Three : Dantrag  
  
Disclaimer : Semdai - Yes, yes, I do not, I repeat NOT, own Dantrag Baenre or any of his fellow R. A. Salvatore generated... fellows The lawyer behind Semdai - (removes the gun from her head and runs off cheering triumphantly) Semdai - (gives the lawyer the finger as he disappears out her back door) Damn lackeys of the copyright owners. (continues typing on her computer growling nasty phrases about how badly she hates lawyers)  
  
Dantrag : Dantrag was the eldest son of Matron (Yvonne) Baenre and the Weapon Master of House Baenre. His greatest rival was Zaknafein Do'Urden. He was first featured (and killed by Drizzt) in the book 'Starless Night' second in the 'Legacy of the Drow' series. This chapter will change a little bit of the actual story a little, like how Dantrag was supposed to be dead by the time Drizzt takes his bracers and throwing Berg'inyon into the mix. Whoo! This is gonna be fun! Yeah... So... (clears throat) Onward!  
  
Up came Drizzt's knee, quicker than Dantrag's, as they inevitably moved together, and in a sudden explosion of agony, the wounded weapon master understood that he could not hold Drizzt back. Drizzt turned Twinkle over the blocking sword and put it in line for Dantrag's ribs, then the two paused for an instant, eye to eye.  
  
" Zaknafein would have defeated you," the ranger promised grimly, and he plunged Twinkle deep into Dantrag's heart.  
  
The Baenre weapon master gave a stifled groan and clutched the new wound. The agony Dantrag felt as Twinkle slid free of his falling body was unbearable, waves of pain rippled from the wound along his chest. The stone rushed up to meet him, slamming the remaining breath from his failing lungs. He lay there on the cold stone, too weak to rise up again, too weak to attempt to stem the flow of his life blood as it pooled around him, too weak to roll to the side as the first shock wave hit. Dantrag held his breath as the blast rolled over him, singeing his stark, white hair and warming his black skin. Then it was gone as soon as it had come and Dantrag lay quivering on the hard, unrelenting stone, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.  
  
Drizzt's hands slipped the bracers from Dantrag's wrist. Dantrag moaned in protest, but could offer no further resistance. He was faintly aware of Drizzt's fingers pressing into the side of his throat as the rouge drow checked for a pulse.  
  
" Shall I put an end to your existence here and now Baenre Weapon Master," Drizzt whispered in Dantrag's ear. Dantrag lifted his head.  
  
" Leave and let me die as my brother has, Rouge Do'Urden," he hissed through clenched teeth, before once again resting his head against the wet stone. Blood poured freely from his chest and belly and made a small lake under the dying Baenre, turning his hair from white to scarlet.  
  
Drizzt was stung by Dantrag's words. The weapon master really expected to die there on that stone floor. There was truth in Dantrag's words when he had said that his brother had deserted him. Berg'inyon had indeed abandoned Dantrag to this fate.  
  
" How long are we going to stand here," Entreri demanded as he returned to the scene.  
  
" A few moments more," Drizzt delayed. The ranger pulled Dantrag's piwafwi from the drow's shoulder and propped the weapon master up against his chest. Dantrag opened his amber eyes and stared at Drizzt with utter amazement as the ranger tied the piwafwi tightly around his chest, stemming the blood flow from his chest and belly. Dantrag closed his eyes and tried to push away from Drizzt. The ranger wouldn't have it, though, and he carefully laid Dantrag on the ground.  
  
" Let's go then," Entreri insisted, " a thousand miles between me and this cursed city could never be enough." The assassin started off in the direction of the surface. After a last look back at Dantrag, Drizzt and Catti-brie followed the assassin, but stopped as another figure riding a drow lizard slipped into the cavern and glided over to the fallen Dantrag, who was curled up (almost) comfortably on the ground. The newcomer dismounted and approached the weapon master, gently shaking the fallen drow's shoulders. Dantrag struggled to open his eyes, and glared at the drow above him.  
  
" So," he hissed weakly, " you've returned to watch me die."  
  
" Not exactly," Berg'inyon contradicted, scooping his older brother up into his arms, " I'm to take you back to House Baenre if you still live," he turned to Drizzt as he added, " and attempt to kill the rouge should he still live." Berg'inyon placed his brother atop the lizard and drew his swords, approaching Drizzt after doing so.  
  
" Berg'inyon," Drizzt inclined his head.  
  
" Drizzt," Berg'inyon returned.  
  
" I have no wish to fight you, son of House Baenre," Drizzt tried to discourage the younger drow.  
  
" Nor do I," Berg'inyon admitted, shaking his head, " I already know that I cannot better you in combat and have no wish to prove it, but I must obey Baenre's orders." Berg'inyon sighed.  
  
" Say that I was gone when you arrived," Drizzt offered before turning on his heel and following Entreri and Catti-brie. Berg'inyon smiled and sheathed his swords. He caught the reins of his lizard and mounted behind his brother.  
  
" You chose wisely, little brother," Dantrag remarked weakly. Berg'inyon grinned and allowed his trembling brother to lean on his chest for support.  
  
The two reached the Baenre compound in record time, a heavy trail of blood marked their passage through the place as Berg'inyon was forced to slow his mount. Several dark elves stopped and stared at the brothers as they passed, pointing and whispering, wondering who could have done such serious harm to the Baenre weapon master.  
  
Matron Baenre floated in her driftdisk with Triel and Gromph at her side. She seemed hopeful at the sight of Berg'inyon's return but her expression sank as she recognized the limp form of her older son.  
  
" Vendes is dead," she informed, " how fares Dantrag?" Matron Baenre inquired the condition of Baenre's weapon master coldly.  
  
" He lives," Berg'inyon replied, " but just barely. His heart was struck and he has lost much of his lifeblood." Berg'inyon passed Dantrag's unconscious body to Triel and Gromph and dismounted. Matron Baenre placed her hand on Dantrag's forehead and felt mentally for signs of life in her son. Dantrag managed to part a single eyelid halfway open. Pain showed clearly in his amber eye.  
  
" Mother..." Dantrag's voice was more a sigh than anything else, " I... have... failed... you..."  
  
" Hush, Dantrag," Matron Baenre commanded, to Triel and Gromph she added, " take him to his chamber and tend to him," she retreated her hand and turned to leave, " if he survives that long." Obediently, Triel and Gromph moved Dantrag to his room and placed him as gently as they knew how on his bed. The two removed Dantrag's piwafwi from around his chest and stripped his tunic and undershirt away as well. Both winced at the sight of their brother's grievous wounds, the deep gash across his belly and the deeper thrust wound in his chest, both flowed freely with crimson fluid. Triel and Gromph sighed sadly, both knowing that Dantrag could not be saved. Matron Baenre herself arrived at that moment with Berg'inyon, Quenthel, and Sos'Umptu in tow.  
  
" How is he," the Matron Mother inquired.  
  
" We cannot save him," Triel shook her head in regret.  
  
" A pity," Baenre remarked, she approached Dantrag and stared down at him. His body jerked slightly as his breathing became erratic. " Die well then, Dantrag Baenre." With that, the Matron Mother strode from the room.  
  
Berg'inyon waited for his mother to leave, then closed the distance between himself and his dying brother. The youngest Baenre son sat down on the edge of Dantrag's bed and stared sadly at Triel. " He really can't be saved," he asked his sister. Triel shook her head but could not find the words to speak.  
  
" I was not... strong enough..." Dantrag's voice nearly made his five sibling's jump out of their skin with surprise, " Drizzt... rightfully... defeated me..." Berg'inyon wanted to say something to his brother, in fact they all did, but the right words would not form. Berg'inyon hung his head.  
  
Dantrag didn't seem to need any comfort, however, for he had his eyes closed and his body relaxed when Berg'inyon was again able to face him.  
  
Dantrag's death came then, swift and silent. His body simply ceased to struggle and his last breath left a sigh on his lips. His head dropped to the side, eyes closed and features slack. Blood stopped trickling from his wounds. He simply became at peace.  
  
His siblings shared a moment of silence for their dead brother.  
  
Ending comment : I feel so sad now. That scene didn't exactly follow Salvatore's but it works. I did this for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to give the impression that the Baenre siblings had some kind of special bond, since their mother obviously doesn't care about them they would pretty much have to turn to each other for support, right? I tried to portray this by having all of Dantrag's siblings stay with him when their mother abandoned him. Second, I wanted to make the scene longer than it would have been if I hadn't had Berg'inyon come back for his brother. Thirdly, I just wanted to throw something of my own creation in there.  
  
My thanks to all who have reviewed and read my work. And my explicit thanks to my dear friends Plays-With-Squirrels and Sharon, who get to read most of my work before anyone else does. Thank you all and please feel free to flame.  
  
Semdai Bloodquill has now left the document... 


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